


Abomination

by zzzett



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon Cure, F/M, Gen, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzett/pseuds/zzzett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sam's idea; purify the demon that risked her life to save them. But who really was she before she was Meg the demon?</p><p>"Told you you won't like it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abomination

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Writing Challenge April 2016 Edition on tumblr.
> 
> Prompt: "Come on, let's throw the dice, see what happens."

“… Why?”

“Because she helped, Dean.” Sam insists, his tone low as to not let the demon and angel overhear them from the next room. “The crypts aside, we’d be dead if she didn’t fight off Crowley. _She_ could’ve been dead because of us. She stayed on our side for nothing in return.”

“Nothing? Now she has allies in the Winchesters and possibly the strongest angel left around!” Dean protests. “When did a demon not backstab us, Sam? It’s what they do. And isn’t she a freaking Lucifer follower? She may just be looking for the key to the Cage-”

“So let’s erase that motivation,” Sam cuts in, patient as he could be. “Let’s cure her. How much demon is left in her by now anyway?” He can’t help a little smile. “She clearly cares about Cas. She took care of him when we couldn’t, when he should’ve been useless to her.”

Dean sighs. He hates having no answer to that.

“We can’t just kill her now,” Sam continues, “and exorcising her is pointless, so let’s make something good out of her. What do we have to lose?”

He knows Sam is right, mostly. Friendly monsters aren’t such a new thing now, and how bad can curing a demon be? It’s actually the best way to deal with one, provided there’s time. Currently, they have that too. 

Still, something doesn’t sit right when Dean thinks about the past, about their first dealings with Meg. “Look, I’m not against the idea, in theory. But she was Yellow Eyes’s daughter, remember?”

Sam’s hopeful expression goes sour at the mention.

“I mean, all that old crap aside, we don’t know what that means,” Dean continues, trying to remain logical through his own scarring. “When I was in Hell, I heard things. Vague, but… Yellow Eyes was old, Sam, ancient. I’m not sure if he ever was human, or not a demon. So what does that make Meg? What would she turn into if we tried the cure?”

“Nothing we expect.”

The brothers both jump at the angel’s appearance beside them. “Cas,” Dean breathes out, “you heard everything?”

They can see the almost roll of his eyes. “Of course,” he answers gruffly, not needing to mention again that he’s a celestial being. “You’re both right, to a point.”

“She’s gone?” Sam asks cautiously, glancing at the door.

An uneasy look comes over Castiel as he shifts on his feet. “Yes.” He hesitates. “She should have stayed. Nowhere is safer than with us… But I understand.”

Dean raises a brow. “Understand what?”

“She’s trying to protect us. We’re targeted by Crowley if he’s still on her tail.” He sighs, clearly concerned. “I’ve warded her. It’s the least I could do.”

The brothers stay quiet; Sam has a sympathetic look while Dean tries not to feel grateful to a demon for caring about their angel. 

He’s failing. Getting old, most likely. “So, what do you say?” He finally asks. “Is the cure a good idea?”

“I’d normally say yes, but… I cannot be sure of her true nature either.” Castiel’s creased forehead indicates hard-thinking. “Whatever she used to be- or, the demon we know as Meg used to be… It’s buried too deep even for me to see.”

A thoughtful silence falls over them until Sam speaks up: “Just how bad could it be, after all we’ve seen? The cure is meant to cleanse. Whatever Meg turns up to be, it’ll be pure.”

Dean doesn’t look too convinced with his crossed arms and trademark guarded expression, but Castiel stares at Sam with such hopeful eyes despite his sad stature, it’s heartbreaking. 

The younger Winchester smiles to encourage him. “You heard me, right Cas? She’s already not what a demon should be anymore.”

 _I’m kinda good which sucks._ The angel crooks a smile.

“Come on,” Sam turns his gaze to his brother, “let’s throw the dice, see what happens. She’s worth the effort, at least.”

*

They summon Meg in an abandoned evangelist church a few days later.

She arrives, blond mane and leather jacket and sass. She looks healthy. Castiel’s heart would jump if he needed it.

She isn’t fazed by the devil trap below, not even surprised. Saved their lives or not, hunters aren’t supposed to trust demons, duh. She’s ready to handle anything they plan to do; be it chatting, torture, exorcism or death. 

But Castiel steps in the circle and stands close, stupid sky blues looking so deep and maybe she’s not ready for anything.

Purification. Huh, so that old rumor was true. She didn’t expect to ever face the chance herself.

Why would she need such a thing, though? Even the little conscience she recently grew sucks more than Hell. Besides, what she used to be...

But the stupid angel looks so hopeful, so concerned, almost begging her with unblinking eyes. She thought puppy eyes were Sam Winchester’s specialty. 

She also thought an angel wouldn’t care this much for a demon.

She accepts the offer. Also suggests being tied up for the ride.

*

She barely reacts to the first dose of purified blood.

Chained to a chair in the middle of the devil trap, Meg watches Castiel’s face as he goes to inject her arm, face creased in concentration. His eyes meet hers warily as he pushes the syringe.

She just smirks.

*

“Why are you guys doing this, really?” She asks at the second dose. “Why bother when you can just kill me? I’m just a demon, aren’t I?”

Castiel looks almost offended. “No. You’re not just a demon.”

“You risked your life for us when it gained you nothing,” Sam cuts in. “That makes you worthy of salvation. A second chance.”

“Funny, I used the guy saying this as a meatsuit once,” Meg provokes, a half curl to her lips. “And what makes you think I gained nothing? Who says I don’t have my own _evil_ agenda?”

“Then we’re getting rid of that possibility right now.” It’s the first time Dean speaks since they started this.

Meg glances at him. Her smirk stays, but something shifts in her eyes.

*

The third dose makes her shiver a little. “You sure about this, Clarence?” She breathes out, still smirking as she looks up at the angel. “Sure you’ll like what you’ll see? Maybe I won’t be as fun to be around.”

“You will be pure.” Castiel avoids her gaze as he withdraws the syringe. “And I will stay by your side.”

“What if the _pure_ product is still an abomination?”

Sky blues flick back to her. She’s not smirking anymore.

*

The fourth dose causes her to grunt and clench her fists. Castiel doesn’t waver for this is a righteous task now, if a bit unbearable. It’ll be worth it. She’s worth it. Sam cringes as he watches from a distance. Dean looks away.

“You shouldn’t,” Meg grits out. “You really shouldn’t. You think it’s the right thing but it’s not. You won’t like it, Clarence. It’ll be bad… ’ll be so bad…”

The angel glances at the Winchesters, helpless. They can’t keep his gaze for long.

*

They all cringe as she screams her insides out at the fifth dose. Under her vessel’s voice echoes an inhuman sound, the agony of the demon inside. Her chair drags on the floor much like when they first exorcised her out of Meg Masters.

Her head falls forward when it’s over, but she keeps shivering. For the next hour, she doesn’t speak.

*

The sixth dose. The tiniest whimper. She slowly raises her head, hair all over her face. 

“Why do you hate me?” She asks, and it’s not her voice anymore; not the familiar, sassy slur of Meg the demon. It’s too small, too cracking. “I did nothing wrong. Nothing but exist… Is it so wrong of me to exist?” 

She’s staring at Castiel, her eyes wide and dewy. Never has a demon looked so innocent to the angel. Her true nature is slowly revealing itself, and what he has begun to see… A chill goes down his spine. 

He must have lost control of his expression for Meg’s face shifts in return; her desperate features retreat to their bored look and she straightens a little. 

“Told you you won’t like it.”

*

She doesn’t glance at the seventh dose, hardly even moves. Slumped forward on the chair, her faded gaze is fixed ahead. 

“Father was crying,” she mutters. “I forgot later, but… He never wanted me to fall. They said they would destroy me… Because I wasn’t supposed to _be_ …” 

She looks up at her three saviors. The Winchesters are standing close behind Castiel like pillars; he looks as if he would fall apart if they aren’t there. 

“Father had to twist me… Ruin me so much I would fall with him… So I would be safe. They watched, called him a monster…” She smirks- _smiles_ , but it’s harder to watch than the former. “But he was crying… He wasn’t a monster until he stopped.”

A little sound escapes the angel. The brothers hold his shoulders.

*

Castiel refuses Dean’s offer to inject the last dose. Bracing himself, he pushes in the syringe and watches Meg throwing her head back, wide black eyes turned to the ceiling. As he steps back, the black color dissolves, but human irises are nowhere to be seen. Her eyes have turned a dim, smooth gray instead.

Castiel hadn’t wanted to believe it.

Then she closes her eyes and drops her head back. The motion causes tears to fall onto her cheeks, but she keeps her lids closed, sitting straight now. The Winchesters leave their friend’s side to circle around her cautiously, hands hovering over their pistols.

“Meg?” Sam asks softly.

“That’s not my name.” She opens her eyes and they’re gray for only a moment more, then brown irises emerge again. “My mother had that name… That’s why I chose my first vessel, I guess.”

“You were never human, were you?” Dean asks, still wary. “What are you?”

She glances at him for a second, then turns her gaze towards Castiel standing frozen right ahead. She has a sad confidence about her now, like a convict waiting for her execution. “An abomination.” She huffs out a chuckle, a remnant of Meg. “You should have listened to me, _Clarence_. Now you have no choice but to obey the old rule.” She smiles, but fails to cover the crack in her voice.

“What rule?” Sam turns to the angel. “Cas, what _is_ she?”

“ _Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children._ ” Castiel repeats the words he remembers from a former brother, so long ago. He distantly hears Sam gasp, registers Dean darting his head around in confusion. But his gaze doesn’t leave Her. 

She’s waiting with her fists clenched, but still wearing that heartbreaking smile, accepting of her fate. She closes her eyes when Castiel takes a step forward- a fresh wave of tears slide down her face. At his second step, her chains are broken. At his third, he’s standing above her. She rises on shaky legs, piercing gaze locked with his.

“You should know by now,” his voice is rougher than usual, “I’m not the best at obeying the rules.”


End file.
